My Heart is in Your Hands
by SunnyBaby
Summary: This is my take on how GSR started. It had to start somewhere right? Will start in season 5 and continue to the end of season 9.
1. Sara's Sorrow

_**This is my first attempt at the evolution of the Grissom/Sara romance. Wish me luck. I do not own the characters because if I did, the interlopers would get their butts out of Grissom's office and all would be right with the world. Sigh.**_

_**Sara's Story**_

Jesus, I smell.

I need a shower so badly. I tried to rid myself of the smell of rotting flesh three times at the lab, but I think that all the lemons in the world won't make me feel fresh as a daisy again. God, that sounded like a douche commercial. Good one Sidle. Now you've become a cliche. I am so tired that I could easily crawl into my bed and stay there for a week. I might not even leave to go to the bathroom. But, I'm sure that someone from the lab would call me in to work and I would be forced to hunt them down and shoot them. That'll teach them to mess with a sleepy Sara. Humph.

I fumble with my keys in the early morning darkness of Nevada. The sun hasn't risen yet and it's blissfully cool and crisp. It kind of reminds me of a Massachusetts autumn morning except that I don't have the smell of rotting leaves permeating my nostrils. God, I miss that smell sometimes. I miss raking mounds of leaves and jumping into them like a five year old. My roommate always called me immature when I did that. I called her a bitch. Life was grand. It was so much simpler then. I was free, young, and naive and I liked it that way. That was before I met death face to face daily and watched the dregs of society walk the hallways of my workplace. Before I had to process rape victims and dead children. God, that's the worst part. In my sleep I can still see so many pairs of vacant hollow eyes peering at me. Begging me for help and justice. Sometimes, I want to put an end to it all just so they're screams will stop haunting my dreams.

Sighing, I throw my keys and purse on the kitchen counter and open the refrigerator. My hand gropes blindly for a beer and I curse realizing that I forgot to stop at the store on the way home. "Shit!" I slam the door shut and peer into the darkness of my apartment. It's tiny but cozy. Aww, who the hell am I kidding? It's cold and eerily quiet. It's sad really. Here I am, 35 years old, single, and bitter. I was going to become one of those old maids who lived in a dirty hovel surrounded by twenty mangy cats. How pathetic is my life?

I am going to take that shower now. I drag myself down the hallway to my bedroom and flick on the light.

'POP!' Great. The fucking light bulb blew. Typical. I stumble into the bathroom and strip off my clothes. They land in a rumpled heap in the corner near the toilet. I am too tired to even attempt to hit the hamper today. Besides, no one will see my dirty underwear but me so who gives a shit? I reach over and pull the curtain back and turn the handles of the faucet. Hot. I like it hot. Not hot enough to scald, but hot enough to cut through the grime of Las Vegas. Seeing the steam escaping from the enclosure, I step inside and feel the warmth seep into my skin. As I rub my hands over my aching body my thoughts drift to him. I imagine those brilliant blues eyes gazing lovingly into mine. I remember the feel of his hands on my palm after the explosion. Those rough and calloused fingertips lightly grazing my hand. The softness of his palm when he took my hand in his after my DUI. I imagine that palm on my breast and a soft moan escapes my lips. Oh, Grissom. What would it feel like to have your mouth on my breasts? How would you suckle me? Hard or soft? Would you use your teeth to nip me lightly or would you flick your tongue on my nipple until I cried from pleasure? I run my hand over my breasts until my nipples are hard and my breath starts to rush out of my lungs. I grab the bottle of shampoo and lather my hair relishing in the scent of peaches that bursts forth. Do you like the scent of peaches Grissom? Or vanilla? Maybe you're a classic Suave Strawberry man. I would change the scent if you asked me to. I would do anything to please you.

Rinsing the shampoo, I apply the conditioner and begin to lather up a washcloth with my favorite body wash. The creamy soap flows easily over my skin and helps to protect it from the glaring desert sun. That, and my hope is that he'll notice one day and relish in the feel of my skin against his lips. I rub my breasts again and a moan leaves my throat. My hand goes lower and lower until I reach the aching between my thighs. Oh God! How I would love to have your head between my legs. Your mouth sucking on my clit driving me to the edge of madness. Grissom, why won't you even look at me? My fingers move faster now and I lean my head on the cool tiles of the shower and brace myself for the explosion that is pooling low in my belly. My hips begin to rock with the rhythm of my fingers. I imagine that it's his cock pumping into me. In and out, up and down, circling, flicking, rubbing fierce and frantic. I begin to gasp in small huffs of warm air. I turn my eyes upward to face the hot spray coming from the shower head as I cum. My stifled scream echoing off the shower tiles and mingling with the soapy water circling the drain.

Tired and vaguely satiated, I turn off the water and wipe the tears away that I didn't realize has run down my cheeks. I will never have him. God, I love him. I know that I do. The thought that he will never return my affections rips at my gut and I lay on the bed not bothering to get dressed. I know that I am probably ruining the comforter lying on it in a wet towel, but I don't fucking care.

The remnants of earlier conversations runs through my sleep deprived brain.

_"Do you want to sleep with me?"_

_"Let's have dinner and see what happens."_

_" Pin me down."_

_"Since when are you interested in beauty?"_

I cry into my lumpy pillow. God dammit! Grissom, I love you! You are such an insufferable bastard not to notice. I came here for you. I stayed here for you. I ache for you. What do I have to do to make you see me as a woman and not a just a collegue? I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling, begging sleep to take me somewhere peaceful when my phone rings.

"Fuck!" I grab it and flip the monster open. "Sidle. What do you mean Nick's missing?"


	2. Grissom's Guilt

_**Grissom's Story**_

Damn, I really hate shifts like this one. Three week old decomps really make your nostrils crinkle. This guys almost made me wish that I didn't have a nose at all. It actually made my eyes water. I will never admit that to anyone by the way. I'm glad that Sara and Warrick were busy with David and didn't notice the slight gag I stifled when they opened the garbage bag this guy was in. I am getting too old for this shit. Maybe I should have followed my Uncle Herb into the plumbing business because I'm sure that the smell of an open sewer in one hundred degree heat is preferable to this rotting corpse down on Dr. Robbins' table right now. Ugh. Ack. I think I can taste him. The smell has permeated my pores and I will stink for days. Boy, people are going to love me when I stop to pay the phone bill on the way home. Lovely, I relish in strangers staring at me. I really need to get home to see mom since she's been ill. I can tell from the tone of her emails that she's lonely. I will probably get the "you're not getting any younger Gilbert" speech that I've heard at least a hundred times. Ever since I mentioned Sara to her a few years ago, she has hounded me relentlessly to start a relationship with her and provide her with some grandchildren. I don't have the heart to tell her that I don't want kids. In fact, a few years ago I contemplated the idea of a vasectomy, but since my sex life in nonexistent, I figured it was just a waste of money.

I climb into my Mercedes and turn on the radio. I still need to get someone to install that CD player I bought last month. I just don't have the time to do it myself. Besides, in Vegas, people will do anything for a buck. Maybe the neighbor's kid will do it for fifty bucks? I turn on the engine and listen to the gentle hum of the engine. Ahh..she purrs like a kitten. Smooth and almost sexy. Despite what Catherine said, this is not a mid-life crisis simply a gleeful indulgence spotted one day while driving down the strip. A simple For Sale black and orange sign, an exchange of cash, and a trip to the PD to verify the title and VIN number and she was mine. Smooth blue steel , cool and clean to the touch. She has great curves. So does Sara. Her curves could make a blind man hard. Jesus! Did I just think that? Well, it's the truth. She has the most intoxicating smile. He laugh gives me goosebumps. She's so smart, so driven, so beautiful, so fuckable. God, I would love nothing more than to bend her over the layout table and bury myself balls deep in her listening to her scream my name and the sound of my sack bouncing off of her tight little ass.

Whoa! I almost missed that red light. Shit! Focus Gil. Get a hold of yourself. You can't have her. She's under your supervision and completely hands off. Hands. Hands. My hands everywhere on her body. Pulling her hair, tweaking her nipples, flicking her sweet little clit until she cried out for mercy. Her hands on my cock, kneading, pulling, caressing, jerking me off in her hair while I stand above her and watch.

Damn. I notice that I am painfully aroused and have tented my khakis. I sigh as I pull into the parking spot of my townhouse. I grab my briefcase and cover myself as I walk painfully to my front door. Thankfully, it's still dark and the neighbors and asleep. I step inside quickly and rush to the bathroom. I rip off my pants and boxers and they pool around my ankles. I stand hovering over the toilet with one hand bracing myself against the back wall. The other hand circles my cock and I begin to relieve myself of the pressure. I imagine her brown doe eyes looking at me through a haze of lust and I choke back a sob. God Sara, I love you. I want you. I need you. I want to fuck you. I can see her spread out on the bed in front of me, her sex glistening from need and I position myself over her with my hands beside her hips. I thrust once and sheathe myself in her warmth. She feels like honey. Sticky and soft. I pump harder and harder until she cums writhing beneath me like a python and I follow her.

I open my eyes look down at my hand, now sticky from my own juices and I sigh. Dammit. Am I only meant to have fantasies? Can I not have the real thing? I wash my hands in the sink, the cold water bringing me back to my senses. I pull my pants off completely and pull my boxers back up and step into the kitchen. Damn! I forgot to stop and pay the phone bill. Oh well. I reach for a glass from the cabinet and fill it with tap water. I swig the whole thing and then I hear my phone ringing in my pants pocket. "Fuck!" I dash into the bathroom and fish out the ringing disturbance.

"Grissom. When? I'm on my way. Call Sara. Cath, we'll get Nicky back. Give me 20 minutes."


	3. Sara's SelfDoubt

_**Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming!**_

Sara

Oh God! This is an absolute fucking nightmare! Nicky, poor Nicky. I can't bear to watch him struggle for his sanity in that box, but I can't tear my eyes from the tiny screen. The green glow of the night vision camera makes him look like he's covered in mold and moss and I can't help but wonder if he's cold. I can see him shiver but I can't tell if it's from the temperature or fear. I wish it was me instead of him. Nick has so much spirit in him, so much life, so much love in his heart. He deserves to live free, marry and have a house full of little Stokes children calling him Daddy. I, on the other hand, am sure that I will be processing corpses for the next 50 years and eating canned tuna over the kitchen sink. Oh God! I have never understood how the decisions we make can destroy us in an instant. The flip of a coin sealed Nick's fate, just as a phone call from Vegas sealed mine.

Standing in the AV lab, I can feel Grissom standing close beside me and the hairs on my arms stand at attention. I want nothing more than to reach out and wrap my arms around him and sob until my throat is raw and my eyes are bloodshot, but I know he will never be there to comfort me. So, I wrap my arms around myself and hold on for dear life watching the screen. My eyes are burning now and I can't close them. I'm afraid if I even take the time to blink, Nick will be gone. Losing him would drive a hole into my heart that no one could patch up. Grissom is still standing there, just an arm's reach away. I can see his chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths. He is remarkably calm in the face of this disaster. I know he's not on the inside because I can see a faint tiny tremor in his right hand as he reaches for the mouse to click the button on the screen again. That tremble speaks volumes to me and gives his true emotions away. I have always known that he's not a robot.

I heard Catherine on the phone earlier and I can bet who she called. There is only one person she knows that could pay the ransom and I have to wonder if being Sam Braun's bastard daughter will take care of every problem in her life now. Grissom chastised her for getting close to that man, but hey, your family is your family no matter what they did in the past. Take what you can get after all. I envy her in a way. Her father never ended up lying in a pool of his own blood on the kitchen linoleum. I wonder if Catherine would be nicer to me if I just told her like I told Grissom. Well, it sure as hell didn't make any difference with him, so who the fuck am I kidding? It would just give her more ammunition to take to Ecklie and he'd be up my ass again. That's one man that I definitely don't want anywhere near my ass thank you very much. Ugh. The thought of that makes me gag.

NO! NO! Grissom can't take the ransom to that maniac. He may never come back. My heart is pounding now harder than I have ever felt it before. I have an ominous feeling in my gut and I know he won't come back. I'll never have a chance to tell him how much I love him. I run through the lab hallways like a lovesick idiot searching for him. His office is dark and he's not in the break room. I feel my face flush and my pulse pounding in my ears.

Damn! He's already gone. If I call him, he'll berate me but if I don't, I may never get another chance. Oh, God! What a fool I have been. Now, it may be too late! I have to do something. I need to process something. Anything. Work. Work. Work. I'll throw myself into work and it will all be fine. Look at the evidence, what did I miss? Anything? Is there any shred of evidence that I overlooked? I hang my head in disgust when Brass enters the layout room and looks into my eyes. My stomach drops into my feet when I meet his eyes.

"What do you mean there was an explosion at the drop off?!"


	4. Grissom's Grim Reaper

Grissom

What the fuck just happened?

What is this shit all over my face? Crap! I think it's parts of Nick's kidnapper. I reach my hand up to my face and I try to wipe the gunk away. I can't and I realize it's because my hands are shaking so fucking hard that I can't make my fingers react to the thoughts in my brain. I can't breathe! Damn dust! Shit! This crap is all over me. I can't tell where his blood ends and mine begins.

I see daylight near the door and an officer rushing towards me but I can't hear a thing. Just an incessant sharp ringing in my ears. Aw hell! I might have wasted that 10 grand getting my ears fixed because I think this asshole just burst my eardrums. The officer is trying to check me out and I swat his hand away. Sara. I need Sara. Oh, God. I could have died in this shitty old warehouse and she never would have known that I love her. I look down at my clothes and I see that they are ruined. Ugh. My mother is going to be mad. She bought me this jacket and now it's covered in man-goo. Wait. She'll never know if I don't tell her. I'll just tell her that I lost it when she asks. She'll get me another one because she always does.

The officer is now tapping my face. Why is this idiot touching me? My face hurts genius. I was almost blown up. My head hurts now. I need a nap. A long nap. A dirt nap? Oh God! I forgot about Nick. Now, we'll never find Nick! Oh Nicky! I am so sorry. I am so sorry. You deserve so much better than this. I failed you.

Catherine's going to be pissed that the money's gone. I wonder if Sam Braun will take it out of her inheritance? Ha. He's gonna be so mad at her. Hey! Stop trying to put me on that gurney because I'm walking out of here on my own two feet. Whenever I figure out how to use them again, that is. My head still hurts. Brass? Is that you? Right now I can't tell and that's sad. I wonder where my glasses are? No, I don't want oxygen, I want Sara. She's all the air I need right now. Oh God! I don't want her to see me like this though. She'd panic and start crying. Or, she's going to be so mad at me that she won't speak to me. I hate it when she's angry with me. I don't want to hurt her.

I can see her despite this oxygen mask on my face. Her eyes are wild with fear but she holds it in. I see you Sara. I know you still care for me now. I can tell that she is holding on to her decorum for dear life when all she wants to do is grab me and see if I'm ok. I know that, because if it were her here, I would do just that. When that looney in the asylum had his hands on her I wanted to rip him apart. I wanted to see his insides smeared on the floor because he threatened her.

God. I am so much in love with her. Sara, don't cry darling. I'm fine. I'm still here.


	5. Sara's Strength

Sara

The drive to the nursery is agony. I sit in the front of the Denali next to Grissom stealing illicit glances as often as I can. I can see the concentration on his furrowed brow and I want so badly to reach over and caress his cheek and tell him that Nick will be Ok. We're all going to be OK. I hope. The cuts on his face from the warehouse explosion are still red and raw and I'm afraid that a couple might actually mar his perfect skin. I could run my wet lips all over those cuts and take the pain away and whisper my undying devotion in his ear. I sigh deeply and turn my face toward the window as we get closer. He whips the Denali off the pavement and onto the gravel road leading to the plant nursery and my forehead bounces off of the cool window glass. I rub the spot once or twice and focus my eyes on the darkness looming in front of us. I can hear Brass barking orders through the radio and I try to concentrate on the sound of his gravely voice echoing in the car. We are close now. Hold on Nicky, we're coming for you. Grissom's here Nicky. It will all be fine now.

Dig! Faster! I want to jump into that hole and wrench the shovel out of Warrick's hands and dig myself. I have done manual labor before and I know that I can dig faster than he can. This is torture. Catherine is yelling frantically into the tiny pipe sticking up from the dirt that is Nicky's lifeline and I want to yell too. I'm here! Grissom's here! Don't give up yet. You can't give up. I won't let you. Hey! They hit something!

Seeing Nick's anguished face in that coffin causes my blood to freeze and my limbs won't obey my commands. I am temporarily stuck to the ground. The smell of fresh earth and fertilizer permeates my nose and I want to gag. I will never plant anything ever again. I vow to never again venture into the garden center of Home Depot without swallowing half a bottle of Pepto Bismol first.

Shit! There's a bomb under the box. Not another one. This loon-ball must have really gotten his rocks off on blowing shit up. I wonder if he was a blast at the family Fourth of July Bar-be-que. Get it? I hope this plan of Grissom's works because I can't bear the thought of plucking pieces of both my best friend and my heart's desire out of my ponytail tonight. I just want to hug them both and go home to drink myself into a beer fueled oblivion on the sofa. I want, no, I need them to both be OK. I can't believe that this idea of Grissom's will work, but I promise to pull with every ounce of strength that God has given me until they are safely above ground and still breathing.

One.

Two.

Three.

The dust is choking me as I land on the ground hard. Dammit! Is that Warrick's butt in my face. I think I'm sitting on Catherine's leg but I can't tell because my eyes are full of dirt.

Oh shit! Where are they? Grissom? Nicky? I can't see anything but a cloud of brown and smoke. Oh! I see them. Nick in on the ground and he's alive! Thank you God! Where's Grissom? Oh, I see him kneeling next to Nick. It worked. Saints be praised, it worked.

I quietly watch them load Nick into the waiting ambulance and I finally let out a deep sigh of relief. It's over and now the healing can begin.

"I want my guys back."

Did I hear him right?


	6. Grissom's Great Revelation

Grissom

"I want my guys back."

There. I said it.

Fuck you Conrad.

You weasly little ass-kissing maggot. I want my guys back or I'll walk.

Damn. That feels pretty good.

I refuse to meet his gaze after I finish my statement. I don't give two shits about what he feels or thinks right now because all I want to do is hug her. Sara. I saw every glance you shot my way on the ride here and I could almost read your thoughts. Am I too late? Have you moved on already? Is there still a chance for us? Rulebook be dammed I swear.

I have never been one to violate the rules of my employer. It was simply too dangerous early on in my career to ruin my chances of success or advancement. Actually, I just never thought about it. I satisfied my carnal urges scientifically and methodically because they were just a simple biological response to arousal. But, when I look in her eyes, something strange happens to my heart. These weird electrical signals seem to jolt from my cerebrum to my extremities and I tingle. Well, I seem to anyway. She makes me feel alive for the first time in my miserable lonely life and I can't wait another day to tell her. Seeing Nick taken makes me truly understand what my mother was talking about when she spoke of my father being her one true love. She loved him from the moment she laid eyes on him all those years ago and she still speaks of him in the present tense. As if he's still beside her. Maybe he is. I want that kind of love. Did I just think about love?

I brush the dirt from my sleeve as I watch Brass and the other officers secure the scene. I need to get to the hospital, but I need to process the scene. I'm so tired. I can feel every one of my 48 years tonight. The cold seeps into my bones and I start to shiver. I wrap my coat tightly around my arms and lean back in a failed attempt to stretch my aching back and knees. Sara sees my distress and walks over to me holding a bottle of water in her outstretched hand. She gives me that little smile that makes my knees wobbly and shakes the bottle at me. I take it and whisper my thanks before downing half of the bottle in one long gulp. It feels so good that I am tempted to pour the rest of it over my head to wash out the grime. I cock my head, raise an eyebrow and gaze at her. Fuck it. I do. She gasps as I pour the bottle over my head and sigh. I flip my head up and spray Sara with water and dirt and to my surprise, she giggles. Not loud, but enough to start a fire in my loins that could easier flare up and burn down Yosemite in no time. I sheepishly hand the now empty bottle back to her and she turns it upside down and shakes the empty thing a few times as if trying to coax another drop from its depths. She smiles. I smile. She laughs. I shrug my shoulders.

Together we process the scene in perfect harmony. Neither speaking, neither needing to. In a way, we have never need to really communicate when we worked a scene. It's almost as if she can read my mind. Well, read this thought Sara.

I

Want

You!

I want you naked in my bed tied to the posts on silk sheets.

I want you screaming my name so loud that the neighbors call the police and I have to explain myself to Brass when he shows up to the scene.

I want you licking my cock and stroking my balls while wearing red lipstick and smearing it all over your chin.

I want to taste your sweetness while you're lying on my kitchen counter right next to the antique teapot and the Ginsu knives I bought from QVC.

I want to hold your hand as we walk into the lab and show everyone that you're my girl.

I want to marry you on the beach, barefoot in the surf.

I want to hold you ankles while you bear down and push our child from your body.

I want. I want. I want.

I don't want to die alone.


	7. Grissom and Sara, Star Gazers

Grissom

The stars are so beautiful tonight. I have always loved to go stargazing especially when there's a meteor shower. The streaks of light blazing through the cloudless night are mesmerizing. Almost intoxicating. Just like Sara's smile. Last night at dinner I managed not to mangle a ridiculous joke that I had heard from Brass and she laughed enthusiastically. Her eyes sparkled and I thought that I was in heaven. I could die a happy man if the last sight I ever saw was Sara's brilliant smile.

Jim would have to come out here and bother me wouldn't he? Anyway, I guess I should get started on this crime scene but I can't get her face out of my mind. Pretty soon Catherine will be here and her mouth will be running. I know that's a horrible assumption, but most of the time it's true. Catherine has been my closest friend, if that's what I should call her, for almost 15 years and yet, I still am uncomfortable around her. No, it's not that I am embarrassed by her blatant sexuality or brashness, I am afraid of her getting too close. God knows that she tries to get into my psyche and sometimes, she gets pretty close. That scares the hell out of me. Once upon a time, I wanted her. I would have saved her from her loveless marriage and carried her away to a life of, well, comfort. I realize now, that Catherine would have found my life pretty damn boring. For one thing, she hates insects and I have a house full of them. I'm sure that I would have had to lock up all the Raid for twenty miles in order to live with her. She was not the one to capture my heart.

This case saddened me. I remember all of my Catholic training and the stories of the Saints and sinners and I can't imagine committing suicide just to follow some religious leader. I know that men have killed and died in the name of Our Lord but it doesn't make sense to me. I talked to Sara about it earlier and she agreed with me. It's nice that she's agreeing with me again. I got so used to her arguing with me and stomping off that it became part of our daily routine. I would make a statement and she would react, usually angrily and that would be that. But now, oh Lord, now, she smiles at me and my heart pounds out of my chest. Sometimes, she gets a certain look in her eyes and I feel that unfamiliar stirring below the belt. God, it has been so damn long since a woman made me feel the way she does. Tonight. Tonight I'm talking her to dinner again and I am going prepared. Not that my whole goal is to bed her, but God, it's been too long and I need her. I wonder if I'll last longer than three minutes. If I didn't that would be so embarrassing that I could crawl in a hole and die. Maybe, she won't care. Maybe, she doesn't want me. Maybe I think too much. Brass is back. Time to get to work.

Sara

Dinner last night was amazing. Grissom, um, Gil (he asked me to call him Gil), was such a gentleman. He opened the car door, pulled out my chair, ordered the wine, and brought me roses. Wow. I had no clue that he was so refined. So romantic. So sweet. I didn't think that he had it in home at all. At work, he's so stoic and repressed that I guess I assumed that he had no idea what love was. Did I just say love? Yes, I did. I love him. I love Grissom. I love Gil Grissom. That sounds pretty good. I think that I have always loved him, at least, I've loved him for the last few years. I have never met anyone who challenges me like he does. He stirs my intelligence as well as my soul and that is a combination that most women never find. Well, he also stirs my libido, but hey, one look into those gorgeous baby blues and what woman wouldn't want him? She'd have to be blind not to notice those arms and that ass. You could seriously bounce a quarter off of those cheeks. I could squeeze them for days. I could definitely sop him up with a biscuit. Oh shit! Here he comes! Better look busy.


	8. Gil Getting Ready

Grissom

Thayer. Sell-out. Media whore. What else could I possibly say about that man? He has almost permanently cast doubt on the field of forensic entomology thanks to his dubious research methods. I am still in awe that someone as respected as him would alter evidence to fit the DA's theory. What happened to scientific integrity? I am happy that I could refute his claims and honestly interpret the evidence. Sara was so supportive. I think that she got me through this whole ordeal. Every day the doubt and darkness creeps in, but she offers me that one elusive ray of sunshine to warm my weary heart. I swear that I see heaven in her smile.

I really should get up soon. She will be here for dinner tonight. Why the hell am I so nervous? I haven't even kissed her yet. I know. I know. It's technically forbidden, but I find myself fantasizing about her sweet juicy mouth. I want to suck on her bottom lip and trace the contours of her neck with my tongue. Hmmm…..I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells?

Ok. I am really up now. Down boy. There's no time for thoughts like that. I have dinner to make. I wonder what she likes? I know she's a vegetarian so a steak is definitely off limits. Humph. That would make her never want to come back. Or cum for that matter.

FOCUS GIL!

Shake it off. You're 48 years old not 16 for Christ's sake Gil. Get a grip on your libido!

Ok. I'm calm now. Breathe in and out. Lets' do a menu check.

Salad? Check.

Rolls in the oven? Check.

Red wine chilling? Check.

Cheesy stuffed shells? Check and ready to bake.

Chocolate cup cakes? Check.

I heard her mention once that she loved cup cakes.

I'm good. I remembered. She says I never listen. Oh how wrong she is. I hang on every single word that passes those luscious lips.

Oh shit! What am I going to wear?  
If I go with a suit, she'll think I'm trying to hard. If I choose work clothes, she'll think I'm not serious about this. If I choose jeans, she'll think I'm a slob. Crap! This is hard. Now I know why women take so long to get ready. Ok. I'll go with the navy blue short sleeved shirt and khakis. Classy, yet relaxed. Shoes? Ok. Wait! Did I brush my teeth? Should I light a candle? Do I even own any candles? Clean sheets on the bed just in case. Fresh towels in the bathroom also just in case. Extra toilet paper. New toothbrush under the sink.

SHIT! I forgot condoms. Well, too late now. I'll just pray that she's on the pill. What if she's not? Well. Then think you idiot. You can figure this out. We'll go with the flow.

Was that a knock on the door? Here goes nothing.


	9. Sara's Sweet Salvation

Sara

I really don't know what to say right now. I'm sitting in Grissom's, oops, Gil's, living room sipping on a wonderful Chablis. I'm barefoot and I think that my jacket is currently hanging on the back of one of his dining room chairs. The wine is warm as it runs down my throat and I can't help but smile. He has gone out of his way to make me comfortable. He even redecorated a bit. When I was here for the Strip Strangler case, this place was so sterile. Lonely and cold. Foreboding like a prison. Now, there are plush colorful throw pillows on the leather sofa and cozy rugs on the floor. When I came in tonight, I noticed the solitary spider plant on the counter. Appropriate in a way. Hmm…he does look so damn sexy in that blue shirt. It makes the blueness of his eyes sparkle in the candlelight. He looked at me once tonight with suck intensity that I thought I would melt into a puddle of goo under the table. I know that he wants me as much as I want him, but how the hell do I make him move forward? I don't know how much more of this game I can play. I feel as if I'm in permanent stasis. Never moving forwards, never moving backwards. Stationary and stranded in limbo.

I lower my glass and look into his eyes as we sit at opposite ends of the sofa. He looks nervous. I can see a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and I can't tell if it's from the Thai noodles that he made, the warmth of the wine, or his nerves. He's shifting his legs, crossing one and then the other. He's so cute when he's nervous. I wonder what he would do if I moved closer?

I slide a little across the sofa. Just a few inches and the sweat on his forehead becomes more pronounced. So, I slide just a little bit more and he shifts again. He's staring right at me now. I can feel my breath begin to speed up and my pulse rate increases. I can feel his intense gaze on my body now. Just a bit closer. There. My thigh rests against his and he stiffens. The tension radiates off of him and he locks his eyes onto mine. Oh Jesus! I want to fuck this man so badly! I can feel the moisture building between my thighs and a flush races up from my chest onto my cheeks. They feel like they are on fire. He stares at me and swallows hard. I watch his Adam's apple bob once, then again as he tries to make his mouth form the words I know he wants so badly to say. Just say it! Dammit! Tell me that you want me Grissom! Say it! Come on! I know that you want me as badly as I want you!

I set the wine glass on the coffee table and I slide my hand across my lap and place it gently on his knee. I hear his breath catch in his throat and his eyes grow wide. I slide my hand a little higher up his thigh until it rests about 5 inches from his groin and I hear a soft moan come from his parched lips. I want so badly to kiss those luscious lips. I want to suck on his bottom lip until he begs for mercy. I want to fuck him hard and long until neither of us can walk for a week. I know he can tell what I'm thinking when he looks in my eyes. We have this strange mental bond sometimes. Read my mind Grissom. Take me!

Oh God! He's moving closer. I watch intently as he shifts his upper body closer to mine until our shoulders are touching. I can smell his shampoo and the faint trace of soap on his skin. Cologne maybe? He turns his face slightly to the right and stops. Dammit! I've had enough playing now. So, I lean in and kiss him. Hard. Demanding. God he tastes good. He allows my tongue access and we duel for supremacy. My hands are now on his upper arms and his are on my cheeks. Jesus! I could die right now and my life would be fulfilled.

Grissom.

Gil.

My boss.

My obsession.

Kissed me.

Is kissing me.

Is touching my face.

I can't think.

I can't breathe.

I can't reason.

I'm in love.


	10. Grissom's Great Night

Grissom

Oh Lord! Her lips are sweeter than Tupelo Honey. Isn't that a song? Huh? Shit! My brain isn't working tonight at all. Ummm….I can taste the wine on her tongue. Her lithe little pink tongue. I have often fantasized about her tongue at work. I would see her stick it out of the corner of her sweet mouth when she concentrated. That tiny muscle of pleasure. I can almost feel it on the head of my cock, lapping and swirling. Oh GOD! I have to have her. I wonder if she can feel how hard I am right now. I could bust a hole in these pants if I don't get her naked in the next 30 minutes.

I

Love

Sara

Sidle

I

Want

Sara

Sidle

My brain is a jumbled mess and my eyes are crossed from trying to look into her eyes as we kiss. Jesus! The things she does to me. I can't take it anymore.

Must

Have

Sex

Brain

Shutting

Down

I pick her up off the sofa and I hear my knees screaming at me but who cares. She has her arms tightly around my neck as if I might actually drop her. Give me some credit Sara. I would sooner lose a testicle than drop you on the floor right now. I need you too much to piss you off.

Laying her down on the bed, she looks at me with a stare that sets my soul afire. Damn. That's a "fuck me" look if I've ever seen one. What do those cheesy romance novels say? Smoldering passion? Desire? I think she's just really horny and I plan on taking care of that little act of business. You know what Sara Sidle? You had better hold on because it's gonna be one hell of a ride.

I claim her mouth with mine and my hands move on their own validation.

Her shirt? Gone.

Her pants? Gone.

Her bra? Hanging off the lampshade.

Her panties? Stuck to the ceiling fan blade.

Holy shit!

Sara Sidle is naked in my bed. Ok Gil. Time to get serious. Show her what you've learned in 50 years of life. Go to it!

I squeeze her right nipple with my thumb and finger and she moans softly. Good sign. I do it again and she wriggles a bit. I replace my hand with my mouth and she arches her back and groans.

Sensitive nipples. Got it!

I repeat my actions with this breast and then the other one until I can see her writhing in pleasure. Ok boy. Move those hands lower.

I rake a finger tentatively across her folds and she murmurs something. I test for wetness and move in.

Index finger. She sighs.

Add middle finger. She writhes up off the bed.

Ahh…now for the good spot. I rub her clit with my thumb and she practically yells.

Damn! Keep going. Ok. Hand on the spot, mouth on the breast. She's putty in my hands now. Screaming and moaning. Hmm….you still have the skills boy!

I let go of her nipple and move my mouth to join my hands. Three fingers inside her and my mouth on her clit. She screams and arches off the bed. I suck on that little bundle and nip it with my teeth. She squirms and claws at the sheets. I feel her orgasm clenching on my fingers and she's saying words I've never heard pass her lips. I let her regain herself and then move in for the kill.

I have never shed my clothes so fast in my life. Now IN!

Oh God! She's so warm. I need a minute here. Breathe. Breathe. She tells me to fuck her. Hard. Ok, you asked for it! I begin to pound into her so hard that her head bounces against the headboard and she screams.

Oh yeah! I'm the man! I've still got it! So I flip her over onto her hands and knees and mount her from behind like a rabid dog. She stills telling me more, more, more. So I grab her hair and give her ass a smack or two. She howls her appreciation. I feel that I'm gonna cum so I reach forward and flick her clit . I've got one hand on her clit, one on her tit and my dick buried in her so deep I can feel her cervix. Pounding, pounding. My balls smack off of her ass. Within seconds she is screaming again so I release with a grunt and collapse on top of her.

Holy Hell.

I just had sex with Sara Sidle.

I had hot monkey sex with Sara Sidle.

I want to do it again.

But first, maybe I'll have a cuddle, a nap and a sandwich.


	11. Sara's Senses

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. School's out and I have writing time until August. SMUT Warning...next few installments. Enjoy!**

Sara

Holy Hell! Ugh! I don't think that I can get out of this bed. I ache in places that I didn't know I had. I tentatively open one eye and look around. Gil is snoring softly in my right ear. I can feel the warmth of his breath at each exhalation. Hmmm…he is so warm. I could stay here the rest of my life.

Did I just think that? Me? Miss Anti-marriage? I thought that? Well, people change don't they?

Ohh….I shouldn't try to stretch right now. My thighs ache and I think I might have pulled a muscle or two. I really need to do more yoga if I'm going to keep up with Gil. He's an animal. I couldn't believe him last night. Panting, swearing, sweating. I think he even smacked my ass. Who knew that he was capable of such raw sexual prowess?

I wonder if I can get him to go another round?

I slowly snake my hand down under the sheet until I feel him. Wow! I always imagined that he would be hung like a Clydesdale and boy I am not disappointed. He's a little soft, but I can fix that. I wiggle out of his embrace and slither under the sheet until his cock is next to my lips. I lick it once and take the head in my mouth. He groans in his sleep and I begin to suck gently.

Wakey wakey!

He moans again and I begin to caress any part of him I can reach.

"Oh Sara!" he mumbles. I feel a hand rake through my hair. I know he's awake now. He moves his hips in tandem with my mouth.

I hum.

He bucks upward.

I suck harder.

He grunts and pulls my hair.

I let him go and look up into his eyes.

They are almost black with lust and longing.

I lose my breath when he pulls me up to his level and rolls me onto my back.

I giggle as he sucks on my earlobe.

That tongue moves down my neck and across my shoulder blade.

I place my hands on his shoulders and push him away. He looks at me confused.

"Just fuck me and stop playing around." I say bluntly.

He smiles. He kisses me once more.

He plunges into me with such force that I scream out.

He stops. Concern on his features.

"Go!" I yell.

He does.

I rake my nails down his back as he sucks on my breast. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him in deeper. I want to feel him in my soul. No more waiting. No more denying. No more avoiding. I want Gil to fuck me hard and long for the rest of my life. I never want this feeling to end.

Soon I am soaring. Swirling, gasping, soaking the sheets. Grunting and groaning we move as one. Two hearts in unison. Forever.

Forever.


	12. Grissom's Game

**A/N Cold shower alert. You have been warned. For my friends who love smut, enjoy. **

Grissom

Oh!

Bathroom break. I hate when nature calls when I am sleeping. Especially when I am sleeping next to a sex goddess. Damn. I don't want to get out of this nice warm bed, but a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.

Maybe I should brush my teeth while I'm in here? Breath check?

Ugh.

Definitely a Scope morning.

Gargle, rinse, spit. I wonder if Sara spits?

Umm…that was inappropriate. Well, who cares. After what we did last night and this morning, nothing if really off limits is it?

Now, back to my sleeping goddess.

I stand in the doorway gazing at her tan legs poking out from under the white sheet. It contrasts so nicely with her skin. I suddenly have an urge to trace every freckle on her body with the tip of my tongue.

I walk toward her slowly and crawl onto the bed so as not to wake her. I gently touch the pad of her big toe and she flinches a little. I bend forward and snake my tongue out to lick the bottom of her foot. She snaps up out of the bed and looks at bed wide eyed.

"What the hell?" She gasps. I grin.

She smiles. So I continue. I kiss each toe on her left foot. She smiles again. I pull her big toe into my mouth and suck gently. She groans. I kiss and lick up her ankle. She groans a little louder. I repeat my actions with her other foot. She leans back onto the pillows and pulls the sheet up a little. I nuzzle and kiss my way up her leg to her knee.

She giggles.

I lick a straight line up from her knee to her folds. She is wet already.

"Gil. I'm gross. Don't." She protests. I shake my head and continue on toward my goal. I want nothing more than to please her. I want to keep her happy so she'll stay.

She doesn't realize that I would lie on hot coals for her.

I lick her soaking lips from bottom to top and she gasps. I nestle myself between her wide open thighs and pull her folds apart gently with my thumbs. I lick gently, savoring her taste on my tongue. She is sweet and tangy and I am intoxicated by her. She has waxed recently and my job is easier. The only part of oral sex that I have hated in the past has been getting a hair caught in my teeth.

I find her tender bundle of nerves and I flick my tongue across it once. She bucks. Found you you little bugger! Now, she's putty in my hands. I continue licking and sucking until her breath increases. Then I pull back and look at her face. Her eyes are closed and she's fondling her own nipples. God that's hot!

"Sara? Do you want to play a game with me?"

"Yesssss" she breathes.

I always keep a supply of toys handy in case of emergency. New ones of course. I walk to the closet and pull down the box. I select a few and pull their cardboard cases open. I walk to the head of the bed and grasp her hands. I tie them together with a silk scarf and then bind her arms over her head to the post. She grins wickedly.

I return to the box and pull out a pink vibrator. She smiles bigger.

I return to my previous position on the bed and turn the vibrator on. She groans before I even touch her. I rub it gently over her tiny nub and she cries out. Hmmm…..perfect. I push the vibrator into her gushing core and she moans. I flick her nub with the finger as I wiggle up toward her face. I suck her breast into my mouth and bite down gently. She screams in delight. She is a vision of debauchery. A vibrator humming away in her pussy and me sucking her breasts. Using my free hand I rub her clit a few times and she explodes in ecstasy.

Panting. Sweating. She shakes and pulls at her restraints.

"Gil?"

"It's not coming out yet."

"Ooooohhhhhhh…..God…..Oh Go…fuck, fuck fuck……ooohhhhhhh!" She squirms.

I push the pink plastic appendage in and out and she mumbles incoherently.

I reach back into the box and open a smaller dildo. She is still writhing on the bed. I lube this one up and push it into her ass. She grunts.

"fuck!"

"Hold on my dear. This orgasm will rock your world."

She is panting like a feral tiger now, cursing, writhing, straining, gasping for air. Squirming in pure bliss. I turn on the second vibrator that's in her other hole and she screams.

"Jesus!"

Now, I rub her clit again.

Push, in and out, up and down. Playing with the speeds and ferocity. She quakes and I can see an immense orgasm building. Suddenly, her back straightens and she arches off the bed in a scream so loud I know my neighbors will call the police now. Her thighs shake and I quickly remove both vibrators and fling them on the floor. I plunge into her wetness like a rabid dog and take her. She is sloppy and soaking. I can feel the aftershocks of her orgasm and I cum quickly.

I lie on her chest listening to the hammering of her heart.

"Wow." She says.

"Yeah. Wow."

"Can we do that again?"


End file.
